


Down

by Crockzilla



Series: Domesti-Kink with Spideypool [40]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Age Play, Bad Days, Big!Wade, Dadpool, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Service Top, little!peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 20:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14600709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crockzilla/pseuds/Crockzilla
Summary: Peter has a bad day. Dadpool makes it better.





	Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cum_plete](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cum_plete/gifts).



> Cum_plete and I both had bad days this week, and they had this wonderful idea. It made me feel better, and I hope it makes you feel better, too!
> 
> Bless my sweet beta, QQI25!!!!

It had been a bad day.

Wade knew because when Peter got home and he asked him how his day was, his Spidey just shook his head. It was bad enough that he didn’t want to talk about it yet. It was bad enough that he didn’t acknowledge Wade’s nice!apron beyond kissing him and telling him he looked cute. It was bad enough that Wade took his nice!apron off and put it away because he could feel Dadpool rising quickly to the surface.

“Let’s snuggle,” he suggested, brushing Peter’s hair back in a way that he hoped was halfway between grown-up and little-kid affection.

Peter just shook his head again, sitting down at the kitchen table and opening his bag. “I’ve got to grade.”

Wade mentally opened his Excellent Wife/Dad Handbook that lived inside of his brain, a book which held all of the wisdom he’d collected about how best to manage one Peter Benjamin Parker. He flipped to the section titled “bad day” and saw that he had several options: he could annoy Peter until he cracked and agreed to cuddle, he could leave him be, or he could get Toppy about it.

For the moment, he decided to leave him be. Peter squeezed his hand when he set an inviting glass of ice water with lemon down on the table next to the quizzes he was grading, so Wade stayed close by, confident he was wanted. He kept himself busy, trying to be supportive without hovering, but every time he glanced at his sweet Spidey, he was gazing down at the papers without seeing them, his eyes sad and distracted. It had been such a bad day that he couldn’t concentrate.

A day this bad almost certainly meant something to do with a student. Probably not a kid who was mad about their grade or anything – Peter usually brushed those encounters off or regaled Wade with stories of the smart-ass remarks he’d used to combat such entitlement. Peter was genuinely upset, and that meant a student or students were having trouble in a legitimate way, maybe couldn’t pay their tuition, maybe were struggling academically, maybe were severely depressed.

Wade knew that Peter collected and carried around all of his student-worries, like acorns to an overly-empathetic chipmunk. He watched his tiny love not-grade for a moment longer and decided to re-assess his options: annoying him didn’t seem like a good idea (that would just be mean or might make him angry), but he needed a somewhat firmer hand. Wade didn’t think pulling out Stern!Dadpool was the answer (because let’s face it Stern is just not what Dadpool does best), but there were other ways he could help his baby down.

Peter looked up when Wade set the juice box next to his untouched ice water. He smiled – it was small, but there. Wade bustled away, not hovering, but he saw his sweetie pick up the juice and sip it – apple, Peter’s favorite. He glanced over periodically to see that he kept the juice box in his hand, sipping at it frequently, as Wade prepared his next tactic.

When Wade set down the small plate of graham crackers, Peter made a yummy sound. That was an excellent sign. He was still only kind of grading, but he picked up one of the squares (Dadpool had broken the crackers in half, not fourths as he normally would have, because he was trying to ease into this) and nibbled on it. He held one out to Wade, looking up at him with big brown eyes that were still grown-up but might just be slipping in that particular way. Wade took the offered cracker and thanked him with a kiss on the forehead before bustling off to another task. He continued glancing over occasionally to see Peter still not quite grading but sipping on his juice and nibbling his cracker. This was going well. Time to turn it up.

When he set down the small plate of apple slices (immaculately arranged in a spiral, of course) and peanut butter, Peter looked at it and froze. If he was going to tell Wade no, that he didn’t feel like aging down right now, this was the moment. Dadpool waited at a respectful distance, watching hopefully as Peter considered the apple slices. He knew his sweetie was weighing whether or not to allow himself comfort, the mean part of his brain probably telling him that he should be an adult and that life was hard and he should just deal with it. Wade wanted to intervene but knew he had to let the internal conversation happen – Spider-mom had helped him down like this plenty of times.

Peter didn’t look up, but he finally, hesitantly reached out and took one, bringing it to his mouth and chewing slowly and deliberately. Wade’s heart flooded with warm, happy flutters as he watched his precious Spidey let go, some of the tension finally leaving his pretty face.

“Should we change into comfy clothes?” he asked, sliding close and ruffling Peter’s hair in a distinctly little-kid manner this time. Peter sighed, still chewing on his apple slice, and nodded. He picked up a graham cracker for the road and followed his Dadpool to the bedroom.

Peter was usually even chattier than normal when he was Little, but he pointed to choose from the comfy clothes options Wade held up for him. It was devastatingly cute, but it also made Wade’s heart hurt – what a very bad day it must have been. Dadpool zipped up the extra-soft red hoodie his baby had picked out and laid a kiss on his nose. Peter giggled, quietly, but it still made a little ball of light dance in Wade’s insides.

“Should we finish our snack while we watch a movie?”

Peter nodded, then held his arms out. Wade’s brain promptly turned into caramel-flavored goo, but luckily he still had enough synapses firing to pick up his kiddo and set him on his hip. Peter’s arms and legs wrapped around him immediately, and he buried his face in his Dadpool’s neck. He rarely wanted to be picked up or carried when he was Little, unless it was for adventuring purposes. Wanting to be held was yet another sign of just how shitty his day had been, and Wade wished that he could somehow anthropomorphize the day into a living being (dressed as a Dude Bro, perhaps) so that he could rend it limb from limb.

He carried Peter with him as he retrieved their graham crackers and apple slices from the kitchen and brought them into the living room. The Good Blanket was in its usual place on the back of the couch so that Dadpool could easily wrap it around them as soon as they sat down. Peter nestled into his chest, one fist pulling the soft material of the Good Blanket up to his sweet ear, the other curled in his Dadpool’s shirt. Wade pulled up their Kid channel and considered his options – simple choices seemed to be a good idea right now.

“Daniel Tiger or _Moana_?”

He heard Peter’s softer, slightly higher than usual Little voice say something that sounded like _Moana,_ which made sense because that had been their movie last summer and the weather was turning warmer. Peter was very attuned to the seasons. He was also, Wade was realizing, extra duper Little at this moment.

Peter let him sing by himself through the first number, which just confirmed Wade’s sense that his little fella was atypically small. He usually sang his head off. When they got to “How Far I’ll Go,” which was Peter’s theme song, he kind of hummed, sweetly and quietly. Dadpool cooed and planted kisses all over the top of his head. He could work with itty-bitty, quiet and cuddly Spidey.

But just as Moana was successfully leaving her island, Peter spoke up. “Daddy, can we walk?”

“Of course, Baby Bear,” Dadpool said, immediately scooping up his little bundle, Good Blanket and all. He was impressed with how easily he was able to stand up with Peter on his hip – he was pretty gosh darn strong, no matter what his beloved or their super soldier friends said. Peter curled around him, warm face in his neck again, and Wade thought he could feel all of the times in their life together so far when he’d had his Spidey’s head on his shoulder. Nothing quite compared to how perfect that felt.

Wade walked, gently bouncing his little guy on his hip, moving gradually through their house and collecting things as they went. First, they went to the bedroom to pick up Floofy Monkey (whom Dadpool had actually grown fond of). Peter glommed onto his favorite stuffie and tucked it securely between their bodies before wrapping his arms back around Wade’s neck.

Then they moseyed to the kitchen, where Dadpool expertly prepared a sippy cup of juice with one hand. It was an experiment – they rarely used their sippy cup, and when they did it was mostly because it was a _Ren and Stimpy_ sippy cup which didn’t make a whole hell of a lot of sense (what toddler is watching _Ren and Stimpy_?) but they had been super excited to find it. When he offered it to his baby, Peter took it but didn’t drink, stuffing it with Monkey between their bodies for safe-keeping. Hm. Interesting.

As Wade moved back toward the bedroom again, rock-walking, he felt one of Peter’s hands slide away from his neck. He tried not to be obvious about looking down, and he kept his “coo” inside when he saw that one precious thumb had made its way into his kiddo’s mouth. His poor sweet little guy, what a very awful day it must have been – thumbs were serious business. He nuzzled his cheek against the top of Peter’s head, hoping it conveyed everything he wanted it to – that he was safe, that his Dadpool had him, that he didn’t need to worry about anything at all.

As he perused their Little Kid bin, gently swaying in place to keep his tiny passenger happy, Wade’s eyes landed on a particular item. Inspiration! Inspiration immediately followed by trepidation. They had never used this item. Spider-mom had picked it up for Little Wade, in fact, just as an option, he’d said. Wade had almost asked for it, once, but the thought made his stomach flip over in a scary/exciting way and he just hadn’t worked up the nerve yet. But maybe, after such a bad day, it was just what his very unusually little spider needed.

Peter’s face was tucked against his neck, now just kind of chewing on his thumb instead of sucking, not paying attention to what Dadpool was doing. Good. Wade pocketed the little object and walked them back into the living room. He thought they were maybe segue way-ing into cuddling and story-reading time (not because he was growing a teensy bit weary from carrying and bouncing, not at all, he could do this all day) and Peter didn’t protest when he settled them back on the couch and turned off the movie.

He adjusted them so that they were at maximum comfort level, his baby snuggled into the crook of his arm, Floofy Monkey secure in his lap, sippy cup set next to him. Dadpool reached to the shelf under their coffee table where they kept some of their many books and retrieved the first one he touched, which happened to be Where the Wild Things Are. Perfect.

“The night Max wore his wolf suit…”

Peter hummed contentedly and nuzzled his face into Wade’s chest. He absolutely loved this book. They both did. As Max was stepping into his private boat, Wade saw his little guy reach for the sippy cup and take a drink, but then he held onto it, not drinking but kind of chewing on the soft, rubbery spout. It seemed like a sign.

Concentrating on reading and trying to calm his own nerves, Dadpool reached into his pocket and pulled out the as-of-yet-unused object he’d picked up. Without pausing his story, he set it on his own knee, well within Peter’s line of sight. He felt his baby’s body go still and knew it was because he’d seen the paci.

Wade’s chest flooded with cold fear – what if this was the wrong move? What if instead of just ignoring it Peter came out of his headspace? What if this ruined all the warm happies he’d built up?

He channeled all of his anxiety into acting out the Wild Rumpus in their customary way, bouncing the whole book up and down to mimic Max and the Wild Things’ movements. To his immense relief, Peter laughed, quietly but freely. He was fine. Maybe he wouldn’t go for the paci, but at least he was still Little and happy.

Wade put it out of his mind, concentrating on the next two pages of rumpusing (which required dancing the book around in highly specific ways). But, just as Max sent the Wild Things to bed and was starting to miss his mom, Wade saw a tiny hand sneak out from under the Good Blanket, hook one finger around the paci, and draw it back under. He focused on reading, careful not to make a big deal as his baby hesitantly popped the paci into his mouth.

Wade had witnessed Peter do a lot of cute things, as an adult and as a Little. Sometimes he did cute things on purpose, presumably to try to make Wade’s head explode, but most often it was unintentional. Those were the truly powerful and dangerous Cutes, the ones Peter wasn’t even aware of.

This. Was the cutest. Cute. Of all.

Wade realized his voice had risen slightly higher in pitch as he tried to hold his squees inside, and he quickly cleared his throat to bring it back under control. His itsy spider did not seem to have noticed – his eyes were half closed, his lovely face completely relaxed, the paci mostly covering his sweet mouth, bobbing gently up and down. Spider-mom had found a rainbow striped paci, knowing Little Wade would be drawn to the pretty colors. Dadpool was pretty excited about the paci as well, partly because of the pleasing color scheme but mostly because of the bliss it was currently bringing his little guy.

Wade indulged in giving Peter a quick kiss on the head and continued reading. As Max sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks, he could feel his baby’s body relax even more against him, sliding into sleep. He was pretty sure he read the last line out loud only to himself.

The thing about pacis is that they usually fell out of one’s mouth immediately after one fell asleep. Dadpool fished the abandoned paci from where it had fallen into the folds of the Good Blanket – his kiddo had only used it for a few minutes, but it had worked beautifully. He kissed the outside of the little item before scooping up his baby to take him into the bedroom.

Once he’d gotten Peter settled, he came back out to the living room and cleared away their snack dishes, rinsed and dried the sippy cup, and replaced it and the paci in their Little Kid bin. Peter was attached to Floofy Monkey like a precious barnacle, so the stuffie would be put away after nap. Wade nestled beside his baby and picked up his current reading material (a heart-warming play called Vampire Lesbians of Sodom) but was soon falling asleep himself. He set down his play and curled around his little spider, hoping he was having good dreams, his bad day forgotten.

*~*~*

“Pacis are amazing!”

Wade giggled as he watched his love energetically scraping bits of spaetzle batter into the pot of boiling water (spaetzle, Peter had explained, was basically mac and cheese but classier).

“Like, we should try it with baddies,” Peter went on, even more hilariously high-energy after his Little nap than usual. “Instead of going to all the trouble to subdue somebody, just pop a paci in their mouth – right to sleep!”

“I find your views fascinating,” Wade commended, tipping the onion he’d chopped into the skillet where melted butter waited to caramelize it. Cooking together was the most wonderful thing.

Peter leaned in, careful not to drop the spaetzle batter, and kissed him. On the mouth, grown-up style. “Thank you, babe.”

“I’m sorry you had a shit day,” Wade said, pressing their foreheads together. Peter gave him another peck on the lips before quickly rescuing his dripping spaetzle.

Once they were both seated at their table with bowls full of luxurious little German dumplings covered in cheese, his Spidey started actually talking to him about the specifics of his Shitty Day. It was as Wade had suspected – stressed and struggling students, too much paperwork bullshit, not enough time to grade and prepare for class, feeling overwhelmed and like he was failing at everything, very Peter Parker things. Wade loved him so much. He wanted to fix everything so that he’d never have a bad day again.

“Bad days happen, sweets,” Peter told him when he shared this desire. “At least we have each other to make it better, huh?”

Wade hummed in agreement as he chewed the bite of spaetzle Peter had fed him. There was, at least, that.

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU to Cum_plete for this lovely idea!!
> 
> Where the Wild Things Are is a fantastic book and luckily my child thinks so to because that means I get to read it out loud a LOT.
> 
> Here is a good recipe for kaesespaetzle (mine is slightly different so dm me on tumblr if you want it): https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/55224/kaese-spaetzle/
> 
> Next up: Zoo trip with Littles! Vampire gloves! Wade's #1 Dildo! So much MOAR!
> 
> Got ideas? Requests? Want to chat? Tumble me! crockzilla.tumblr.com


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